


Agents

by spookyscaryskeletons (Buttons15)



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttons15/pseuds/spookyscaryskeletons
Summary: Queen Ayrenn was very particularly about picking her Eyes. She made a point to know each and every one of them personally.Razum-dar knew that, and he didn't hesitate to use that information to try and get the queen a girl.
Relationships: Ayrenn Aldmeri/Female Vestige
Comments: 27
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **I HAVE PLOT BUNNIES**

“I knew this visit would be a nightmare, but reality, as always, exceeds my expectations.” Queen Ayrenn sighed, then rubbed her face. She told herself she wasn’t being fair – the weather was excellent. The sun was shining. The Silvernar was dead and they’d narrowly escaped a plot to swallow the entire island into the ocean. “At least I got to go for a swim. It had been a while.”

Razum-dar arched an eyebrow at her and twitched his tail. “This one believes a swim is when he goes to water, and not when water goes to him.”

Ayrenn smiled, kicking off her still soaked boots. “All a matter of perspective, my friend.” She tried to keep the optimism even when her head ached and worry gnawed at her stomach. Raz knew that, and she appreciated his banter. She stared at the papers on her desk. “I suppose it would be too much to ask if you wrote all the obligatory letters for me?”

“Raz chooses to understand that as an order to take his leave.”

She snorted. “Maybe I should invest on a new intelligence group. The hands of the queen. They’d do paperwork for me.” The thought reminded her of something else, and she turned to him, her interest renewed. “Speaking of which. You’ve got a new apprentice, don’t you? Where did you pick that one up?”

Raz perked up his ears. “Interesting one, isn’t she? She got in the way when Raz was investigating the Sea Vipers. Wouldn’t fall to Raz’s tricks. Smart soldiers are very inconvenient.”

His unconventional recruitment process never ceased to amuse her. ‘So you hired her?”

“Raz tried bribery, of course! And she refused! And _then_ Raz hired her. This one could not stand to leave an un-bribable officer on a place like this. A waste! Khajiit will be dragging her along.”

“Smart and honest? Sounds too good to be true.”

“Raz finds that statement offensive. This one is obviously smart, sincere and handsome to boot.”

Ayrenn smiled again, though with a hint of sadness this time. “Try not to get her killed. I can always use more Eyes. Now, about that paperwork you were going to help me with…”

By the time she finished the sentence, Raz was already gone.

* * *

Ayrenn didn’t know the soldier’s name, and that bothered her. She tried not to get attached to Raz’s recruits, what with how often they ended up dead, but she made a point to remember their names anyway. And she would have brought it up, would have asked who that woman was and where she was from, but she was _exceptionally quiet._

She was overthinking this, she knew. It was her defense mechanism – focusing on the little things to distract her from the fact that she felt like a farce. So was, she supposed, the way she would naturally get close to the people around her. Times like those, she felt like she really needed a friend.

“I’ve seen you around the city. Reinforcing the defenses and helping out the guard. Don’t think I haven’t noticed it. I always notice a job well done.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

It was all she could do to stop herself from flinching. “Please. Call me Ayrenn. I believe you have something to report?”

“Razum-dar has ordered me to directly inform you about a plot that ends in an attempt for your life. Our investigations suggest Watch Captain Astanya is behind it.”

It felt like a knife to her heart, and Ayrenn had to take a moment before answering. “We… used to be friends, she and I, or so I’d thought.” She felt her throat go dry and forced the next words out anyway. “No matter. Razum-dar has free reign to act on my behalf. Carry on the investigation. Report back to me when you are done.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ayrenn watched her go, the news weighting on her chest. There were betrayals after betrayals, and that was a big part of why she’d vanished for so many years. And though she didn’t regret leaving, she knew this – the way people questioned whether she was fit to rule – was but a consequence of her actions.

_I didn’t catch her name,_ the thought came back to haunt her, and she hoped she’d have the opportunity to remedy that.

* * *

The nobles around Ayrenn would often question her habit of granting private audiences to plebeians, ragtags and foot soldiers. But she had good reason to. The Eyes of the Queen were handpicked, carefully selected by Ayrenn herself, and when Raz sent people her way, he was sending them for her evaluation.

The wood elf was quiet in more ways than just one. She was quiet in her words and in how she held herself, quiet enough that her footsteps seemed muffled and her voice was barely above a whisper. And she was quiet in her thoughts. For people like Ayrenn, talking was but a part of thinking, and bouncing off ideas was an essential part of that process.

But she could tell that one, the quiet one, did it all by herself, all in her head. It scared her, if she considered it for long enough. “Report, soldier.”

“Ma’am,” She bowed her head. Ayrenn took her in, ran her eyes through her shape and posture, watched her and wondered if she was the kind of person she would trust with her life. “The plot was real. The situation has been resolved with Astanya as a casualty.”

Brief, to the point. Ayrenn appreciated it, but the words told her very little about the person behind them. She would have to be more incisive about it. “Has she given any indications about her motives?”

The question was a test, more than anything. Ayrenn knew of the Veiled Heritance. She knew her opposition and her enemies. But she did not know that soldier, and she wanted to remedy that.

“She was a part of a group named the Veiled Heritance. They question both your policies and your right to rule, and support the Veiled Queen’s bid for the throne. The Queen’s identity is currently unknown.”

Facts and facts, but not a hint of emotion. The impartiality, Ayrenn had to admit, was impressive. “I know of them. What makes you believe Astanya was involved?”

“Evidence. Exchanged correspondence. A verbal confession.” The soldier didn’t move, didn’t even shift on her feet. “Transcripts shall be available on a written report.”

Ayrenn felt a mix of frustration and excitement at the challenge of breaking through the walls of the woman’s mind. “I knew her, or thought I knew her. The betrayal hurts.” Silence. When she didn’t reply, Ayrenn sighed. “I can’t help but wonder why she did it. Where have I gone wrong.”

The woman bit her bottom lip in thought. “She spoke of dissatisfaction regarding the open borders policy. She seemed to believe the other races were inherently inferior and felt that your acceptance was an act of betrayal towards your fellow Altmer and your culture.”

_Finally,_ _we’re getting somewhere_, she crossed her arms over her chest. “And what do you think of it?”

“Of the open borders policy? Or of her ideology?”

“Both, I suppose.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “It is not my place to weight in on the matters of the state.” 

_Mara’s tits but she’s difficult. _“Humor me.”

She didn’t answer at first, but Ayrenn let her take her time. It was an important question, one whose answer might determine her future. The obvious answer would be supportive – that the policies were good, and that she was right in her choices. Ayrenn didn’t want that. She wanted the honest answer, even if it was critical. The people she needed by her side were those able to look her in the eye and speak inconvenient truths.

“It’s… complicated,” she finally spoke. “Many factors at play. Change is inherently scary and with any change comes backlash. The Altmer aren’t the only ones resisting the alliance. The Dominion has three very different cultures that are bound to collide. I believe the transition will certainly be a rough one. But…”

“But?”

“But a worthwhile one. We’re stronger together. And coexisting with differences makes us grow.” She held Ayrenn’s gaze, a curious expression crossing her features. “As for the ideology itself… I do not find the Altmer inherently superior to other races, save for when the matter is one of height.”

It was such a bizarre answer, Ayrenn had to take a moment to think about it. She pinpointed the oddness on pure semantics – that superior was sometimes synonym with taller, but clearly not in that situation. The quirk was irrelevant to her final decision. She found the reply honest enough, insightful and lacking in groveling.

And she still didn’t know her _thrice blasted name. _“I feel like I am at a disadvantage here.”

“Ma’am?”

“Ayrenn. Just Ayrenn, please. Or Renn, if you rather, for my friends. You know me. But I don’t know you.”

She broke eye contact for a split second. “Silerva Pinelake. Valenwood native, mostly Summerset raised. Merchant family, currently stationed in Alinor.”

“Favorite color?”

“I – I’m sorry?”

Ayrenn smirked. “Favorite color!”

“Cerulean?” She blinked.

“Meal of choice?”

“Venison and other red meats. I’m adherent to the green pact when in Valenwood and partly adherent otherwise.”

“Leathers or heavy armor?”

“Leathers. My frame is not ideal for heavy.”

“Favorite animal companion?”

“I, um, I have good synergy with all animals. Most Bosmeri do. But I like the ones with pelts more than the ones with chitins.”

“Excellent answer.” Ayrenn bit back laughter. “Two more questions. Nickname of choice?”

“My… my little brother calls me Sil. But most people call me by name.”

“Noted. Now last, but most importantly.” She folded her hands behind her back and stared at Sil. “A Queen needs many instruments. Some are blunt and brutish, but some situations need lighter touches. Razum-dar represents my eyes where my eyes cannot reach. Would you join him in his task? Be one of my agents, for the good of the Dominion?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That was it. No hesitation, no time to think, not even excitement. Her face remained impassive all along. Ayrenn wasn’t sure what to make of it, except she appreciated this new puzzle to solve. “Then you will work under me first, under Razum-dar second, and under no one else. Are you up for the task?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Then by the power I hold, I name you an agent in my employ. You are now an Eye of the Queen, bonded to my service. Auri-El keep you safe and Xarxes guard your words.”

She nodded. Ayrenn hesitated then, unsure whether she was waiting for a dismissal. She was about to grant one when Silerva spoke.

“Your Majes – Queen Ayrenn.”

She would have her drop the ‘_queen’_, but it was a work in progress. “Yes?”

“Does this mean I get a raise?”

_I made a good choice,_ Ayrenn realized, and then she burst out laughing. “I’ll see to it.”

* * *

She was having a particularly bad evening when someone knocked on the door. The sound made Ayrenn tense and brace herself for the worst. She had strictly ordered no one to interrupt her, which meant only very high officers bearing important news would have the nerve to do so. “Come in,” she called, fully expecting Raz.

Silerva half entered the room, and the hesitance in her step gave Ayrenn the chills. Silerva wasn’t one to hesitate just like Raz wasn’t one to demonstrate sadness. She was succinct and efficient, always jumping from one objective to the next with certainty in her step. “Is something the matter? Come in, close the door.”

Silerva obeyed, walking halfway to the room. “Razum-dar sent me here.”

Ayrenn waited for any further explanation. When she got none, she gestured towards the nearest chair. “What can I help you with?”

“I – nothing, really. I was told to stand guard for you for the night.”

On the few months they had been working together, Ayrenn had quickly learned Silerva was an excellent liar. Not because she was prone to falsehoods, but because even overcoming the cultural gap behind them, the wood elf was particularly odd. She was quiet, sometimes too blunt or too literal with her words and she often lacked an understanding of social situations, which she masked with formality.

The result was a somewhat awkward person, which counter-intuitively worked well when the tells of a lie got lost in the overall jarring picture. But Ayrenn made a point to know her officers, her Eyes in particular, and she could tell. “Right. And why are you here, really?”

Silence. Ayrenn arched an eyebrow. This, too, was uncharacteristic of Silerva. She was one to follow orders, one to –

Something clicked inside her head. “Raz told you not to tell me why he sent you, didn’t he?”

Silerva broke eye contact and nodded. Ayrenn smirked, her interest renewed by Raz’s antics. “But you work under me first, under him second, do you not?”

Silerva nodded. Ayrenn motioned towards the chair again. “Then sit and tell me. That is an order.”

Silerva sat, biting her lip in thought and avoiding eye contact. “Raz said I should come to your room and stand in the corner because you are in an insufferable mood and seeing a pretty girl would cheer you.”

It took her a split second to process that, and then Ayrenn felt her cheeks heat up. She stood so fast the chair fell behind her. “I’m going to kill that cat.” She bent down and pulled the chair back up. “Honestly, Silerva, I am so sorry – I didn’t mean to put you into an embarrassing situation. This is so unprofessional. Please, by all means. I release you of this. Go enjoy your free time.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled, and it was such an unexpected thing, Ayrenn felt her blush get harder. “I don’t mind keeping you company. If you want it, of course.”

“I always want company,” the words escaped her lips before she could think about them, and she knew she must have looked sheepish when she said it. _This is dumb. And awkward. I’m going to kill that cat._

“Then I’ll stay.” She pulled something from her pocket – a knife. That Ayrenn didn’t react immediately to that told a lot of her survival instincts. Then Silerva pulled something else, a block of wood, and began carving it.

Ayrenn watched it for a few minutes, completely ignoring her paperwork, arriving at the conclusion that Silerva’s definition of company might just be two people existing around one another, interaction optional. She smiled to herself, resting her chin on her hands.

There was paperwork to be done, but this – people – always provided her with an irresistible distraction. “I thought the Green Pact forbade you to do woodworking.”

“Mh. It’s okay if it’s wood from somewhere else. These are Summerset trees.” She made rough cuts with the blade, but Ayrenn couldn’t yet tell what the sculpture was meant to be.

“Where did you learn it?”

“Parents taught me to carve bone. Wood is an experiment. Softer. More malleable. I like it. It doesn’t break as easily. Bone is brittle, particularly if you heat it up.” She looked up from her work, red tinting her cheeks. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble.”

“No – no, it’s okay. Do ramble. That was quite interesting. What are you making?”

Her eyes drifted back to the wood. “Don’t know. Sometimes I just let my hands work by themselves. I – I hope that makes sense.”

“It does. Sometimes it’s good to just… stop thinking.” She sighed. “I wish I got to do that more.”

She stopped working again, furrowed her brow in thought, then extended her the knife. The block of wood was looking less like a cube and more like a sphere. “Here. Try.”

Ayrenn blinked. “I – I don’t know how. I’ve never carved a thing in my life.”

Silerva tilted her head. “Sharp part goes against the wood. Slice.” She made a motion with her wrist. “Like so.”

_There seems to be a lot more to it than just slicing, _she mused, but took the tools anyway. She pressed the blade against the wood.

“No. Lighter.” Silerva stood and walked behind her, wrapping her hands over Ayrenn’s. “Hold it like this.” She shifted Ayrenn’s fingers around the knife handle. “Now move. Slowly. Too much strength and you lose control over the cut.”

She was close now, their backs touching, and though her focus was as intense as a hawk’s, Ayrenn’s attention was much fickler, and she was tired, and she couldn’t help but admit that Raz was right. Her mood _did_ get better around pretty women.

“You’re not paying attention. Focus.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she muttered under her breath, mentally cursing herself when Silerva pulled back.

“I’m sorry. It’s not my place –”

“Sil, it’s _fine.”_ She put the knife down and turned to face her. “Listen. I have plenty of subordinates. I have plenty of flatterers. Plenty of people to cater for my every whim. That’s not what I want from you. Do you know how many Eyes I have?”

“That seems like classified information.”

“It is. I’m sharing it anyway. You’re the twelfth officer to hold that title. Twelve. I know all of my Eyes personally. Their names, their families. Because I want them to be my friends. I want _you_ to be my friend. Being a queen is a lonely task. I need people who I can trust, that will tell me the truth even when it’s inconvenient. Can you do that for me? Can we be friends?”

Silerva paused and for the first time, Ayrenn saw her consider the question rather than immediately agree. “Yes.”

She hadn’t expected a longer answer, so she nodded. “I’m glad, then.” Her eyes darted back to the desk, and she sighed. “As much as I’d love to keep learning about woodwork, I do have to write those letters. You can go whenever you want, if you get bored.”

“All right.” She picked her tools back up and resumed working on the statue of something mysterious. “Ayrenn?”

Ayrenn resisted the urge to celebrate finally being called by name. “Yes?”

“Don’t kill Raz. He means well.” She paused. “I like Raz.”

Ayrenn smiled, a spontaneous grin that made the corners of her eyes wrinkle. “Just because you asked, I’ll consider it. You _did_ make my mood better.”

“Thank you. You’re nice. I like you too.”

“Likewise, Sil.”

Silerva nodded, then got back to her art.

_She is so cute,_ Ayrenn caught herself thinking, and then banished the thought by burying herself in her work.

* * *

A queen’s life, Ayrenn was learning, seemed to be composed exclusively of heartbreak. She did her best to welcoming and kind, she really did. She had a vision of the Dominion which she was trying hard to bring into reality – a good vision, or so she believed. Betrayals hurt. Close betrayals hurt _a lot_.

And a betrayal by her brother’s wife, one her agents had been warning her about, one she chose to deny? That hurt like a bitch.

But Ayrenn had nothing but dreams and moral integrity, or so she liked to believe. She had been wrong. She owed her agents an apology. She had to wipe the tears from her eyes and make her face presentable before calling Raz and Sil into the room.

“You were right about Estre. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Raz would love to take credit for this, but he did not believe it when five-claw told him, either. Raz was chasing her into the building to stop her. She wouldn’t listen to his arguments.”

Hearing it didn’t surprise her. Silerva was one-track minded and she had no doubts that given the chance, she would have slipped a knife between Estre’s ribs right in the middle of the castle hall. She was a good agent, but one Ayrenn had to handle with care, if only because of her scary, almost unnatural efficiency. “Sounds like her.”

Silerva blushed, and Ayrenn couldn’t help but smirk. On one hand, she was fun to tease because it was so hard to get a reaction out of her. On the other, it made Ayrenn feel like a horrible person for doing it. “Don’t let me get to you,” she leaned her weight against her desk. “You did good, Sil. Thank you. I might have been dead without you.”

“Just doing my job,” she replied, her cheeks still pink.

“Give yourself some credit. You saw through Estre when that old cat over there didn’t.” She smiled at Raz’s indignant face, bursting into laughter when he gave her a rude gesture.

“This old cat would feel underappreciated, but he knows he cannot possibly win against a pretty girl for your favor.” It was Ayrenn’s turn to feel her cheeks warm. Raz swished his tail and gave her a knowing smile. “Raz knows his queen and understands her preferences. And Raz would love to stand here and intermediate for both stubborn fools, but he would love to go for a drink even more. So Raz will leave now.”

“Wait,” Ayrenn began, but for all his good work, Raz was still a sneaky Khajiit who would jump at any chance to evade Altmer bureaucracy. He knew after messy events came exhaustive reports, and he wanted nothing to do with that.

Sil, to her credit, stared at Ayrenn with a look of open confusion. “I don’t understand…?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s running from paperwork as always. I’m sorry, I know you’re both tired. I just need you to answer a few questions for me, and then you’re free to go. Promise I won’t keep you long.”

“Okay.”

“By now the guard has told me most of the events. What I need to know from you is how did you figure it out? What gave Estre away as the Veiled Queen?”

“I saw her speak to her Veiled Council. A projection of her, at least. I could see her face, but even if I couldn’t, I’d be able to tell by her voice. I’m…” She broke eye contact, stared at her feet. “Sensitive to sounds. I can usually tell.”

“And then you came to warn me right away?”

“Yes.”

_And Estre saw you,_ Ayrenn reflected, _and instantly made a portal to escape. _

It spoke volumes about their relationship that Estre hadn’t waited to hear the accusation. Estre hadn’t let Sil speak, didn’t try to argue back at all, because she knew when it came down to it, when it was her word against Sil’s, Ayrenn would trust her agent over her own sister-in-law.

The realization caught Ayrenn by surprise, and she looked at the woman patiently waiting in front of her with an entirely new perspective. “I would trust you with my life,” the words escaped her lips without thought.

Sil frowned, then replied with a nod and not a word.

_Typical._

There was a knock on the door that snapped Ayrenn out of her thoughts, and before she could properly react, someone spoke without opening it. “Your Majesty, Prince Naemon has been told the news and is on his way.”

_Naemon._

Her brother, whose wife had just been killed by the very agent she currently spoke to. Silerva still had her blood on her armor, and when she took a step forward, Ayrenn saw the hints of a limp.

Ayrenn rubbed her face with her palms, resisting the urge to cry. “I’ll bring you over if I need any more information. You can go now. You’ve more than earned your rest.”

Sil looked at the door and hesitated. “Can I stay?”

The question confused Ayrenn. “Stay? Here? I don’t mind your company, but I need to –” Something clicked inside her head. “ – you don’t trust Naemon, do you?” A chill crawled over her spine. “Did you… did you find any evidence that he might be involved with all this?”

“No evidence. Everything points to Estre acting on her own. I just…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Ayrenn bit her lip, considering things. Silerva was not, by any means, an expert on reading people. But perhaps because she had such blatant difficulties, she paid a lot of deliberate attention. Ayrenn was inclined to take her perception into account, precisely because it was so unusual. “Who do you think I can trust, then, if not my brother?”

“Me. Raz.” Her response was immediate, and then she frowned and thought for a couple seconds. “Proxy Queen Alwinarwe.”

“Alwin?” She blinked. “You’d trust Alwin over Naemon, when she so blatantly antagonizes me?”

“She loves you but thinks you make decisions that are irresponsible or oftentimes plain stupid.”

A grin found its way to her lips. She could almost hear the words in Alwinarwe’s voice. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“What else did she tell you?”

“That she likes me better than Raz because I am unobtrusive.” Sil spoke with the purest look to her eyes. “She is sincere. I can tell, because although she is vocal, she never lets anyone else complain about you. She is your fiercest defender. She is aggravated by your actions, but she does love you.”

Ayrenn felt something warm on her chest. Her return had been overall difficult, and though her cousin had a less than receptive attitude, it moved her deeply to know that there was _someone_ on her side rather than planning to drive a knife on her back.

“And you think Naemon doesn’t?”

Sil hesitated. “Prince Naemon is… angry. I – I’m not saying he doesn’t love you.” She rubbed her nape with her palm. “But I don’t think it matters, because he’s angry above everything else.”

“I see.” She drummed her fingers against the desk, considering it. “You can stay, if you want. But you need rest and healing for that left leg of yours. And my brother won’t be happy to see his wife’s killer in the room, guarding me against him.”

“I can stay, but it would be inconvenient,” Sil translated, rubbing her own arms. Her reluctance was evident. “It seems unlikely that Naemon will take action against you tonight, if ever. And you can defend yourself. But I…”

There were few things that bothered Ayrenn as much as an unfinished sentence, particularly one which she couldn’t guess the ending to. “But you…?”

Sil made eye contact and took a step forward, touching her on the arm. “Renn.”

Despite the day’s stress, or maybe because of it, Ayrenn felt her heart skip a beat. “Mm?”

“Just. Just be safe. Please. We need you.” She dropped her gaze. “Take care.”

“I always do,” Ayrenn resisted the urge to touch her, tilt her face up with her fingers.

“No. You don’t. You make irresponsible and oftentimes plain stupid decisions. But I love you anyway.”

_Does she have any idea what she’s saying, _Ayrenn looked away, rubbing her face. “I’m never letting you around Alwin again. She’s a terrible influence.”

“I like her. I don’t think she likes me much, though. Hard to tell. She isn’t upfront about her emotions.”

“Doesn’t matter. She can’t have you.”

Sil tilted her head and smiled, a rare, beautiful thing that was gone just as fast as it had happened.

And then she bowed her head and left the room without another word.

* * *

Ayrenn slowed down her steps so that Sil could catch up with her. She much taller, had longer legs, so she needed to constantly remind herself to slow down for the smaller woman. It was harder because she was anxious, which made her restless.

“Thank you,” she said when Sil reached her, for what had to be the umpteenth time. “Really. I have no words to thank you for how much you did for me. I mean, a divine spark? An Ayleid source of power? What does any of that even mean? Those were impossible things, and you found them anyway.”

“No problem.” Sil muttered, not meeting her gaze.

Ayrenn smiled despite the anguish squeezing at her chest and touched her on the shoulder. She knew she didn’t even need to ask, but she did it anyway. “Always so modest. Will you… can I count on you one more time? Will you accompany me to the Orrery, watch it judge me?”

“Yes.”

“There are dangers to it,” she warned, knowing it would do little to change Sil’s mind. “No one has seen the Orrery work in hundreds of years. It could just explode. It could malfunction. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation. Ayrenn’s heart was still heavy with yet another betrayal, Ambassador Tarinwe being the latest person to drive a knife through her back, and a twinge of uncertainty had been growing within her. “Sil. Do you… what do you think will happen in there?”

Silerva tilted her head. “It should work. We have the right materials. Danareth thinks it’ll be okay.”

“I meant… I meant regarding the results. Do you think it’ll deem me fit to rule?”

“Yes, of course,” Sil nodded. “No doubt about that.”

“Even when I act irresponsibly and –”

“Renn.” Ayrenn stopped talking. Something about the way Sil spoke the nickname made her inhale and hold her breath. “You’re good.”

She felt her cheeks warm up at the simple compliment. “Thank you.”

Sil nodded again and gave her a reassuring half smile, and that’s when she admitted it to herself.

_I am attracted to my agent._

And of course she was. She had always been weak for the strong silent types, and the unflinching loyalty in an ocean of betrayal felt too welcoming. Raz knew what he was doing every time he sent this one agent over. Raz knew her very well.

“I hope it goes well, I – oh, Naemon is here. He shouldn’t be.”

“Naemon,” Sil repeated under her breath, and the hint of distaste did not escape Ayrenn. She stepped aside anyway, keeping her distance. Not _too_ much distance, but some.

“Little brother,” She hugged him tight, her heart drumming under her chest. “Thank you for coming, but you shouldn’t be here for this. The dangers are too great.”

“Nonsense.” He smiled when they broke apart. “I won't turn my back on family. My place is in your shadow, as it has always been.”

There was a certain bitterness to his words, she could tell, but her gratitude at his presence was far greater than her caution. “I know this can't be easy for you.”

“On the contrary. Today the Dominion shall see why a High Elf is fit to lead all of Tamriel.”

She half laughed, half scoffed, rubbing her face. She hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. “I used to despise your certainty, but today it's... reassuring, oddly enough.”

“Apology accepted.” He smiled, polite as always, but for some reason she found it chilling.

“Then let’s get this over with.”

She had no way of predicting what would happen next, though deep in her heart perhaps she already knew. But Ayrenn knew herself enough to acknowledge that she sometimes ignored the truths she found too painful to handle.

She felt her stomach drop when her brother sprung a magic trap on them, dreading the moment he walked inside, because the Orrery wasn’t really meant to determine whether one could rule or not. It was meant to reveal the person within.

And then reemerged from the machine as a creature more twisted than anything she’d ever fought, her own _brother_, a monster with too many limbs and too many eyes and so much hatred. It screamed. Snarled. Limped towards them, some legs too long and others too short and a body too heavy.

_“It’s your fault,”_ it hissed, and its breath smelled of rotten things and death. _“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!”_

Ayrenn didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away, not when he smashed through her guards, crushing them into stains of blood and broken bones. She heard a scream and realized it was her own, her throat on fire, and then the Thing which Naemon had become turned around and she saw Sil break free from her bindings, Rajhin’s mantle around her shoulders, and turn to face it.

She’d always wondered how exactly Raz had gotten around to recruit someone who was so quiet and purposefully made herself invisible, but seeing her fight for the first time, Ayrenn was quick to understand it. Sil fought in the same way she acted – she observed and dodged and observed some more, tracking the creature’s movements with her eyes, until she her motions seemed less desperate and more calculated, until the cat-and-mouse chase had turned into a dance.

And then, abruptly, she rolled beneath the many legs and struck – a single critical, devastating blow, a sword pushed between the creature’s semblances of ribs, up to the hilt. It roared once, a sound that dropped in pitch at the end and became a gurgle. When the creature fell down, Sil finished up with a precise strike of her sword, a single slice that lopped the head clean off the shoulders.

Maybe out of irony, maybe out of cruelty, but on that very moment the body started shrinking and morphing, the extra limbs sucked within the torso, the eyes melting to the insides of the skull, until it was no longer a monster but just Naemon. _Her_ Naemon, her little brother, the one she’d snuck extra dessert to, the one who’d sat with her under the night sky and rambled about the magic hidden among the stars.

His head on the ground, at her feet, and she could see the blade had severed not the bones of the spine but the soft disc between them. It what was, in every sense, a perfect cut through the path of least resistance.

Ayrenn fell to the ground, turned her head to the side and threw up the contents of her stomach and beyond, until she could taste bile.

“Renn.” She felt hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently.

“Why?” the word escaped her lips before she could recompose herself. Her heart was in shambles and she could do little to prevent the tears that blurred her vision. “By the Eight, just – just _why?”_

Sil flinched at her question, retracting her touch. “I – I’m sorry. I didn’t – if I knew there was a way to turn him back, I wouldn’t have –”

The look of genuine distress on her face was enough to snap Ayrenn’s sense of duty back to first plane. “No – not you. Naemon.” She looked at the remnants of her guard, scattered around the room, filling it with the metallic scent of blood. Her stomach turned. “You did what you had to do. I just don’t understand, I – I included him on every plan I made, I –”

She ran out of words despite her racing thoughts. “He was angry.” Sil mumbled, then touched her again, on the face this time, gently wiping her tears with a thumb. “Renn,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “We need you.”

In a way, it was what she needed to hear. Ayrenn stood, stared at the Orrery with a mixture of fear and hatred and expectation. “I have to see this trough. I –” Her voice broke. She took a deep breath, glad that there were no others to hear them. “I have do it. And if what’s inside me is…” She shook her head. “Promise me that you’ll take care of it.”

Sil’s eyes widened and for a split second, Ayrenn expected her to outright say no. But then she nodded and stood, tense, resting the tip of her sword on the ground. Ayrenn walked over to the Orrery before her good sense could talk her out of it, her legs moving as if they belonged to someone else. There was light when she crossed into the machine, light and heat and a creeping, horrifying sense of being watched by something bigger than herself.

And then, just as fast as it had begun, it was over and she was standing in the middle of the room, a glow still seeping from her fingertips and something inside her irrevocably changed. When she looked around she experienced it for the first time – a flash of the White-Gold Tower followed by a hunch strong enough to make her dizzy.

A hunch of victory and possibility, but also of immense dread that preceded it, and when she stared again at Naemon’s lifeless body, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t over between them, and that however bad things were, however deep her loss hurt, there was always room for it to get much worse.

She was snapped back to reality by the clang of metal, and she turned to see Sil had dropped her blade and was staring at her with wide eyes. Ayrenn had a moment of pure despair where she looked at her own palms, heart racing, to check if they still had five fingers and no claws. And then Sil was on her, knocking the air out of her with a hug so tight that her ribs hurt, in what had to be the biggest display of emotion she’d ever seen from her.

“Renn,” she mumbled, still squeezing, and Ayrenn hugged her back because how could she not, “You are what you are.”

The magnitude of what she had asked of Sil struck her then, and how she had been willing to lay her life for her once more, even when the most logical alternative would be to never step foot anywhere near the Orrery ever again.

_How many unfair requests have I made,_ she wondered, and her brother came to mind once again. “I’m sorry. I – I shouldn’t have put that weight on your shoulders.”

“It was dumb,” Sil let go of her, the slightest of smiles touching her lips. “But it was important to you. You needed to know. I understand.”

“You always do,” Ayrenn touched her face on impulse and recoiled when an electric feeling went through her skin.

Sil tilted her head. “No. I hardly ever do. But I don’t have to. I just trust you.”

“That’s not a just,” she stared at her fingertips, looking for answers. “That’s – that’s everything.”

“I don’t understand that,” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she said it and Ayrenn wondered not for the first time if she’d stumbled upon yet another instance of her peculiar sense of humor.

And then Ayrenn felt it again – a hunch, a glimpse of what could be, and this time it wasn’t about the Dominion but rather about the person standing right in front of her. A warmth. A sense of security and comfort and something else which she didn’t dare look at. Ayrenn grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her again.

When she let go, Sil’s cheeks were a tone of pink visible despite the tan on her skin. “Renn?”

“I - don’t think too much about this,” Ayrenn advised, breaking eye contact.

“Okay.”

She smiled, allowing herself a moment of sincere enjoyment before facing what was to come. “I… I don’t want people to know about what happened here. About Naemon, I mean. I want him to be remembered kindly. I’ll say… I’ll tell the world that the Orrery malfunctioned. That he died to protect me. Would you keep that secret for me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” She rubbed her palm over her face, steeling herself for what was to come. “King Camoran is waiting for us outside. Let’s go tell that bastard that we survived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayrenn: "Are you recruiting agents or are you just trying to get me a girlfriend?"  
Raz: "Yes."
> 
> \--
> 
> "Really buttons? another gay elf romance?"
> 
> all I do in life is work, complain and write gay elf romances
> 
> "buttons what is this mess of a story"
> 
> whenever I play a game I do it in a really immersive way and I roleplay intensely in my head. sometimes I just write logs of those roleplays on a notebook and I figured I might as well publish these logs since there's never enough lesbians stories out there
> 
> "buttons is that elf autistic"
> 
> the short answer is yes. the long answer is that she's somewhat closer to a social communication disorder than a full blown autism, so she's got less of the tics and sensory issues and more of the "I literally just don't understand people" part. but those are all more or less on the same spectrum.
> 
> sil is a character who is 50% pure confusion 50% deadly combat savant and 100% pure gay dumbass
> 
> "what is the difference about this wood elf protagonist and your other wood elf protagonist?"
> 
> they have different mental issues and also the other one is a trainwreck. this one is an actual decent soldier.
> 
> "are you gonna update this thing?"
> 
> idk


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayrenn is completely touch starved and no one can convince me otherwise

Ayrenn had been nodding off, steadily startling herself every time her head dropped, or the quill slipped from her fingers, to the point where whatever she had been writing was just an unsalvageable blotched mess. She should be in bed and she knew she was way past any sort of productivity, but the premise of sleep and the nightmares that would invariably follow nearly set her into a panic.

The knock on the door almost made her jump off her skin. She looked out the window, trying and failing to judge the time by the position of the moons. It was late, she could tell that, way past bedtime for most sensible elves.

Ayrenn rubbed her eyes and stretched. “Come in.” When Sil poked her head from the narrowly open door, Ayrenn found herself relaxing. “Oh. It’s you. Good to see you,” she smiled. “Anything I can help you with?”

Sil opened her mouth, closed it, then made a gesture of general exasperation. “No. I’m helping.”

Ayrenn blinked. Used as she was to Sil’s particularities, it was far too late and her brain was barely functional. “Anything I can… help you help me with?”

“No.”

Sil walked into the room and closed the door behind her. Ayrenn couldn’t help but notice the deep rings under her eyes. “Are you on guard duty? Who put you up to that? You’ve more than earned your rest, and I have more than enough guards. My Eyes don’t need to take watches.”

“Not guard duty,” Sil took a seat on the room’s couch. It was designed for Altmer, and she sunk into it almost comically. “You told me you always wanted company.”

“I – why?”

Sil looked at her with an expression that was unusually gentle. “Difficult day to you. Lost your brother. And you weren’t asleep. So I thought you’d want company.” Her face turned into concern. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” she replied on reflex, and it was followed by a heartache she’d spent the whole day trying to swallow. “No, stay. Thank you.”

Sil nodded. Ayrenn pushed the papers on her table aside and grabbed a bottle of Senche-Tiger Single Malt Original, a gift from Raz, the type of drink he saved for special occasions like winning a war or losing a brother. “Care for a drink?”

“No.”

Ayrenn tilted her head. “Suit yourself. This is good stuff, though.”

“I don’t like the taste,” Sil looked almost apologetic saying it, and Ayrenn felt compelled to soothe her. “Weird. Grainy. And it burns.”

She stood and walked over to the sofa, not bothering to grab a glass. “It does indeed. It’s rare that I find a soldier that doesn’t drink. Or, well, a person that doesn’t drink.”

“I don’t mind Rothmeth.”

“Is that so?” Ayrenn kicked off her boots. “I’ll make sure we keep some in stock, then.” She uncorked the bottle and took a long sip straight from the bottle. Her empty stomach complained at the alcohol.

“Thank you.”

Ayrenn was acutely aware of her watching, though it didn’t make her uncomfortable. She’d gotten used to quiet observation as a Sil thing to do. “You know,” she swirled the bottle, watched the liquid move. “My brother and I used to share late-night drinks like this. You’re a bit like him.”

“I am?”

“In a way. He was quiet, just like you.” Ayrenn felt her heart clench. “I was always the loud kid. The people person. And I’m good at reading others, but people like you and Naemon are my blind spot.” She drunk. “We are – were. We were so different, Naemon and I. He liked to sit in quiet places, alone with his books. And I’d sit next to him, just to be around someone, even if we weren’t interacting.”

Sil nodded. “You are warm.”

“I – No one has put it quite that way. Thank you.” She felt the urge to cry. “Naemon liked cooking, too. He made amazing dishes, divines, the smells I’d get home to. He was –“ her voice broke. “He was my best friend. And then I left, and I left him behind. Then I came back and took his throne. His wife. He didn’t deserve any of that. And he didn’t deserve to die for being angry, rightfully angry, at the wrong moment.”

“I’m sorry,” Sil touched fingers to her cheek. “I – I’m not good with words. But.” Her expression was that of frank distress. “I am sorry. It was by my hand.”

“You did what you had to do,” Ayrenn wiped her face with the back of her hand. “You did nothing but protect me. And I… I would have been devastated to lose you, too.” She leaned to rest her head on Sil’s shoulder, but the wood elf was too short and Ayrenn settled with pressing her cheek to Sil’s scalp instead.

“I – I am bad at talking,” Sil insisted, and her hand sought Ayrenn’s, gently pried the bottle from her hands and placed it on the ground. Her fingers were warm. “I don’t always find the right words. But. I care.”

Ayrenn’s heart squeezed in her chest. “I’ll miss him,” she whispered, and felt as if her chest was being torn open, her heart torn from her insides. “I’ll miss him so much. You’d think his favorite game would be something like Pearls of Pyandonea but no. He liked the random thrills of Auri-el’s spinning arrow.” She bowed her head further, pressed her face to Sil’s shoulder. “Little brother. Fuck. Fuck, I –“ A sob ripped through her lungs, making her body shake. “I’m so sorry.”

“Renn.” Sil shifted then, pulled her closer, tangled fingers through her hair. It was unexpected, coming from her, but suddenly Ayrenn was enveloped in her arms despite the size difference, and Sil rocked her in her arms and hummed incomprehensible Bosmeris. “I love you, Renn. I love you. It’s okay.”

Sil ran her hands over Ayrenn’s face, wiping her cheeks, pulling Ayrenn’s head to her lap, and Ayrenn leaned into every touch like a starved woman would reach for food. It was a Bosmeri thing to do, that kind of open physical contact; Altmer like her were taught restraint, politeness and composure.

But the Bosmer, the Khajiit, they were just like that – they’d hug and hold hands and kiss each other’s skins or lick the fur of their cubs, in such a natural manner that touch, rather than words, could be their mother languages. And Ayrenn needed that like a desert needed the rain. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until she got it, but right then she knew it was something she couldn’t live without.

_It is odd,_ she mused as Sil tangled her head into braids. It was odd that despite the lack of words, she felt as if this was the most in depth communication she’d had in a while. Odd how much intimacy there was in the silences they exchanged. She closed her eyes, focused on the blooming sense of warmth and comfort amidst an ocean of pain.

When she opened her eyes again, it was because rays of sunshine were leaking through the windows and onto her face. Her limbs ached from the odd position she’d slept in, her head on Sil’s lap and her legs hanging off the couch. She couldn’t imagine what Sil’s back would feel like from sleeping on a sitting position, and knowing her, Ayrenn was sure there would be no complaints.

_Shit,_ she thought, blowing her hair from her face and holding a Bosmer-styled braid between her fingers. _Oh, shit. I’m catching feelings._

Ayrenn spent the rest of her day trying to convince herself otherwise.

* * *

The problem with catching feelings for her Eyes – and there were several of those, but the problem in question – was that Ayrenn had the obligation to keep some degree of professionalism. And that, unfortunately, included letting them do their jobs.

Their terrifying, risky, often suicidal jobs.

But the advantage of being the Unforseen Queen, at least, was that a certain degree of broken decorum had come to be expected of her. So she called Sil into her room – not her office, but her bedroom – and tried to pretend that she did not, in fact, fancy her agent.

Even as she poured them both a glass of Rothmeth.

Sil knocked on the door, and when she poked her head through the opening in that characteristic curious-but-cautious manner, Ayrenn was faced with the fact that she was awful at lying to herself. “Come in.”

Sil closed the door behind her and Ayrenn extended her the glass. Sil took it, smelled it and smiled. “Thank you.”

Ayren stared at her own glass, and then at the room’s dimmed lights, and there was no way that situation could be read as anything _but_ sexual. If Sil noticed it, she didn’t show it. Ayrenn took one long gulp of her drink. It was sweet, almost unbearably so.

Sil stared at her own glass without drinking. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

_I want you to press me against a wall and kiss me,_ she thought, but didn’t say. “Yes. I have an assignment for you.” She tilted her head. “You don’t like your drink?”

“I won’t drink before I’m sure nothing requires my immediate attention. Does your assignment require my immediate attention?”

“Um. No.” She blinked. “Alwin has asked for your presence. Not one of my Eyes, and _definitely_ not Raz, but you. Specifically, you. By name.”

“She remembered my name?”

“Alwin’s memory is very selective. Of course she remembers the, and those were her exact words, ‘remarkably unobtrusive and polite Eye’.” She shook her head. “You made a positive impression. You leave in the afternoon. One of the Sapiarchs is returning to Alinor and you can go on his ship.” She looked at her drink, had a little more. “If that’s fine by you?”

“Yes.” Sil nodded, then took one small sip.

Silence.

_Okay,_ Ayrenn thought, hopping from one foot to the other, _this is going fantastic. _“All right. Good. Great. I – um.” She stared at her desk, where she’d conveniently prepared tools for the eventuality that she could not keep a conversation going. “I was wondering if I could take you up on that offer to teach me carving?”

Sil smiled, a genuine expression that made her heart do a little flip. “Yes.” She walked over to the desk, ran her fingers over the materials. Ayrenn had provided five different types of wood – none from Valenwood, she made sure – and a carving knife specially commissioned for that purpose. “What do you want to make?”

_Son of a daedric-worshipping harlot, _she panicked for a split second. _I didn’t plan for that!! How have I studied the softness of each brand of oak and not for a second thought about what the ever-loving fuck I’d want to – _“Eagle. Dominion eagle!” she tipped her cup to hide her face, finishing her drink.

The look of open concern Sil gave at her empty glass should have been enough of a warning. “Eagle. Okay. Uh.” She took the cup from Ayrenn’s hand, placed it on the desk, stared at it for a couple seconds, considering. “Is everything okay?”

“I need a hug,” she blurted, then immediately felt her cheeks heat up. There was something about Rothmeth, and she’d had it before so she should have known, there was something about how the sweetness masked how strong it was.

Sil scrunched up her eyebrows. It was endearing. “Okay.”

Sil closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Ayrenn’s torso, knocking the air off her lungs with an _oomph_. Ayrenn returned the gesture, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle, resting her chin on top of Sil’s scalp.

The burning feeling spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. “Thank you. Really. Thank you for enduring this inappropriate behavior.”

Sil tilted her head up, her nose touching the skin of Ayrenn’s neck, making her shiver. “Everyone needs hugs. Only Altmeri are weird about it.” Her arms went down to Ayrenn’s waist and she settled her cheek on Ayrenn’s chest. “Do you need to talk about something?”

“I just –“ She took a deep breath, feeling woozy. “Be safe. Please.” She pulled back from the hug so she could look her in the eyes, placed her hands on Sil’s shoulders. “Come back to me, okay? Don’t do anything stupid, and come back to me.”

“Okay.” Sil touched her fingers to Ayrenn’s cheek, her expression serious. “Renn.” Her lips curled in a smirk. “Rothmeth is drunk in skulls for the whole tribe. Or small cups made of bone for each person.” She turned to the desk. “This is a very big cup. You drunk too much.”

“Oh.” She felt stupid for it, chastised herself for not researching the right things. “I’m… sorry?”

Sil shook her head, eyes twinkling. “Nothing to apologize for. It is funny.”

“Then… I am glad?”

“You won’t be, in the morning.” Sil took her hand, tugged her to the bed. “Lie down. Rest.”

“But –“ She reached inside her mind for words and found her thoughts to be foggy. “Um. Carving?”

“Absolutely not. You will cut yourself. Rest,” she insisted, and Ayrenn took a seat on her cushion.

“But I hardly get to see you,” she protested despite her shrinking good sense, “And you’ll be gone for who knows how long. And Alwin –“ her head hit a pillow. The world spun. “Alwin is very pretty. And composed. And exquisite. And the perfect example of what an Altmer queen should be. And curious. Sexually curious. Don’t tell her I said that, but she is, I know for a fact she is, I once caught her – never mind.”

_You are humiliating yourself,_ the voice of reason pointed out, but Ayrenn was far too drunk and her inhibitions were entirely gone. She was shamelessly showing her inner self, which just so happened to be both needy and a complete wreck.

Sil was very openly grinning, and Ayrenn grabbed a pillow and placed it over her blushing face, trying to smother herself. “Aaaaaaaah.”

“Renn.” Sil took the pillow away. Ayrenn sat up. “I do not understand your concerns. But. You are dunk. So I will not ask you to elaborate now.”

She stood, walked to the desk and poured a glass of water. Ayrenn took it and drunk without questioning. “Thank you.”

“Does it run the family?”

“Huh?”

“The… curiosity,” Sil retrieved the glass and put it on the bed stand.

It took Ayrenn a moment to process the question, and when she did, she felt the blush come back sevenfold. “I – uh – I –“ the longer she took to answer, the more suspicious she’d seem and she knew it. “It’s an Altmer thing? When we are not bigoted, we are curious.”

Sil laughed then, truly laughed, a delightful sound that made warmth bloom on Ayrenn’s chest and reach all the way to her fingertips. “You are saying things you will regret.”

“Probably.” Ayrenn rubbed her eyes, trying to resist sleep so she could enjoy the moment. “I won’t regret a moment spent with you, though.”

“There will be others,” Sil sat on the other side of the bed and gently pulled her down. “Now rest. Stubborn.”

Ayrenn laid down, but her heart ached. “Can you stay?” She realized immediately it wasn’t a fair thing to ask. “Only if you want to, of course.”

Sil looked around the room. There wasn’t even a place for her to sleep, nowhere that not the bed, and Ayrenn realized she had essentially propositioned her. “Do you need another hug?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to hug you to sleep?”

_I had no idea this was an option but now that I know it, I really do._ “Yes. Please.”

Sil kicked off her shoes and climbed into the bed next to her. Ayrenn’s heart sped up a little when she felt arms wrapped around her waist and the warmth on her skin.

It did little to rouse her, and she yawned. “You make me feel so safe.”

There was a moment of silence where Sil pressed her nose to Ayrenn’s nape. “Yes. Good. I love you.”

_This is unbelievable._

“What do you even mean?” She protested even though she had very little energy to try to understand it.

“Exactly what I said, usually.”

“I don’t –“ she dozed off, “ – get you.”

“We have established that,” Sil squeezed herself closer. “Now rest. We can talk more in the morning. Good night, Renn.”

“Night,” Ayrenn managed, and then she closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayrenn: yeah we cuddled last night but I don't know, it might just be a bosmer thing to do  
Raz: the sole reason you are single is that you are an idiot


End file.
